


Supernatural: Storm Traveler

by OtherCharacterNut



Series: Supernatural Story Series [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drama & Romance, Epic Friendship, F/M, Original Mythology, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:35:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27639634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtherCharacterNut/pseuds/OtherCharacterNut
Summary: It's the end of the road, but what would you give to go back to the beginning? For a ride in the Impala with the Winchester brothers? Lynn Arrowood would give anything. So, when a storm inexplicably sends her to the world of Supernatural, Lynn must face the creepy, demented, unexplained, and unearthly things to be with Sam and Dean. Is it worth all the danger, fear, and pain? Hell yes.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Sam Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Supernatural Story Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020948
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	1. Rider on the Storm

_This story is in honor of the show that truly changed my life. For the last 15 years, it has given me inspiration, hope, strength, laughter, escape, comfort, love, and every emotion humanly and inhumanly possible. I wouldn't truly be me without it or the family_ _ **Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles**_ _, and_ _ **Misha Collins**_ _created with countless others like Alexander Calvert, Mark Sheppard, Jim Beaver, Kim Rhodes, Osric Chou, and Felicia Day to name a few. Eric Kripke created something priceless and timeless that the rest of the show runners and writers let us keep for ten more incredible years after the phenomenal first five. I adore every season, every episode, every hunt, every_ bitch, jerk, idjit, assbutt, _and every ride in the beloved Impala. I could never thank Jared and Jensen enough, I could never thank any of all those amazing people enough, for what they brought to my life. I will love this show with all my heart and soul for the rest of my life, just as I will love Sam and Dean and Cas for all they've given me, and the world._

 _While I am deeply saddened by its end (the raw and overwhelming sobs of pure emotion are still coming in waves), I will follow the_ _ **Supernatural**_ _family forever because in our world – the world we made together - the end is never really goodbye._

 _So here is a story close to my heart, a story finally brought into reality from a dream that began (and only grew) more than a decade ago that felt as real as my waking life. A story about a young woman who wanted nothing more than to live in the fictional world of her choosing (and who hasn't wanted that at least once in their life, right?). And every time she chose_ Supernatural. _Impossible for me, but not for her. This is her story, one – if I'm being honest – I wish I could live myself instead of just through her. This is how I will never say goodbye to the Winchesters and their family business._

_11/19/20 at 11:19 pm_

* * *

Dean drove down the empty road only lit by the Impala's headlights. Sam sat beside him, going over all the information they had. It had been a couple hours of this. Only the darkness, the winding pavement, and the rumble of the engine. Dean tried to start up conversations about hunting and the interview, even Jessica, but Sam distractedly brushed them all off. Finally Dean gave up and turned on the radio. Sam shuffled in the seat, getting fed up with the next to no information on what happened to their father. He looked out the window to see the branches reaching out over the highway like clawed arms trying to tear open whatever passed by. He hated seeing this, danger in the darkness. _Just one more job._

_Riders on the storm  
_ _Riders on the storm  
_ _Into this house we're born  
_ _Into this world we're thrown_

Dean turned up the volume at hearing the Doors song and Sam stared out the windshield as a silent flash of lightning broke the black sky.

_Like a dog without a bone  
_ _An actor out on loan_

Static crackled over the music as the wind picked up outside. Dean fiddled with the dashboard to no avail. An electrical scratching the brothers didn't recognize sounded over the lyrics as another bolt of lightning split open the night.

_**Riders on the storm** _

Sam immediately looked to his brother as a woman's voice sang clearly from the radio. Dean gripped the steering wheel, staring back at his brother before returning his eyes to the road. The static was gone, and the Doors played as though nothing happened.

_There's a killer on the road  
_ _His brain is squirming like a toad  
_ _Take a long holiday  
_ _Let the children play  
_ _If you give this man a ride  
_ _**Sweet memory will die  
** _ _**Killer on the road** _

Electrical disturbance struck the radio again to free the woman's song as the wind swallowed the roar of the Impala. More lightning flashed ahead yet there was no thunder or rain. Sam turned to his brother and asked, "What's going on Dean?"

"Hell would I know?" he snapped.

_**Girl, you gotta love your man  
** _ _**You gotta love your man  
** _ _**Take him by the hand  
** _ _**Make him understand  
** _ _**The world on you depends  
** _ _**Our life will never end** _

The lightning ceased and the wind began to quiet to the light yet haunting voice singing through the speakers. The whole song was different, like a cover you'd hear someone perform. Sam took deep breaths to calm himself and looked out the window to find any kind of answer.

_**Girl, you gotta love your man  
** _ _**Girl, you gotta love your man  
** _ _**Girl, you gotta love your man  
** _ _**Oh you gotta love your man** _

Her voice held power and was soft at the same time. Dean relaxed his hands on the steering wheel and watched the road as another wide turn revealed itself. He looked over to Sam and said, "See? We're good. Just a freak lightning storm causing some weird-ass interference."

"Even you don't believe that."

"No, of course I don't."

_**Riders on the storm  
** _ _**Riders on the storm  
** _ _**Into this house we're born  
** _ _**Into this world we're thrown  
** _ __**Like a dog without a bone**  
_**An actor out on loan  
** _ __**Riders on the storm…**

Sam peered into the darkness the headlights couldn't illuminate and asked, "What could cause this? No way a ghost has this much juice."

"And no monster I've ever heard of has this kind of mojo."

As they drove into the last tight bend of the turn, with the last lyric playing over and over again, someone suddenly appeared on the road. "Dean!" shouted Sam at the sight of her. It happened so quickly Dean almost didn't react in time. She came out of nowhere and yet was right in front of them. He slammed on the breaks staring straight into her terrified eyes before she vanished from sight again. Sam and Dean stared dumbfounded out the windshield and then at each other.

"What the hell was that?" Dean yelled.

"You didn't hit her," Sam almost questioned as he got out of the car.

Dean followed and stood next to his brother to see a young girl lifting herself up from the asphalt. She had thrown herself out of the way and in doing so scraped her knees and palms. Sam slowly crouched down to gently catch her gaze as Dean loomed over them. She wore a long green trench coat that flowed over her like it would be soft to the touch and her dark brown curls were frizzed and tangled from the wind. Her styled torn jeans now had the blood from her scrapes and her black combat boots were stained with mud. Nothing seemed amiss but the brothers couldn't stop staring at her eyes; dark and deep set, they held both captive because it wasn't the fear or shock or confusion that shone. It was the _awe_. She stared into Sam and Dean as though she recognized them from a time they don't remember.

Sam slowly stretched out a hand and kindly asked, "You ok?"

Not even a blink. Dean wasn't sure if she blinked in however many minutes they've been standing in the middle of the road. He took a strong step closer and demanded, "You cause the lightning storm?"

"Dean!"

"What?" he defended. "Radio goes haywire thanks to the weather going nuts and this girl suddenly appears in front of the car out of friggin nowhere and that's _not_ a coincidence? Come on!"

They turned back to the girl to see her now staring at the car as she got to her feet. She appeared slim inside that jacket and the top of her tousled head came up to Sam's shoulder. He slowly reached out a hand to lightly touch her arm. Her gaze immediately shot back to Sam at the feel of him and darted to Dean when he stepped between her and the Impala. Now she was blinking, furiously.

"All right, let's start with why you're in the middle of the road." Dean said in a gentler tone.

"I-I wasn't… I was walking home when the weather, uh, went _nuts_ , and I-I," she glanced around her, trying to recognize something – anything – but there were only trees. "Where are we?"

"California," answered Dean. "Just a few hours outside Jericho."

Her eyes widened even more as she couldn't choose who to focus on. Concerned for how overwhelmed she was, Sam softly asked, "You said you were walking home? Where's home?"

"Mystic, Connecticut."

"Connecticut?" Sam echoed.

She nodded her head.

"You were in Connecticut?" Dean asked in a tone lathered in disbelief. "So what, the weather went all doomsday and Auntie Em-ed you here? How the hell does that happen?"

The young woman let her eyes drift back to the Impala and caught her reflection in the passenger window. The brothers watched as she stumbled forward and placed her hands on the sleek, black metal. Somehow, it seemed as though she recognized them more than she did her own reflection.

"This seems witchy," grumbled Dean and got a side sneer from Sam.

"Nothing about her says, "witch," Dean."

"No, no, course not. What's witchy about a girl friggin teleporting from Connecticut to California in a random-ass lightning storm! Oh, and a random-ass lightning storm that hacks my radio with a cover of the Doors."

Sam rolled his eyes and whispered back, "Fine, we'll check her for hex bags but if she's not a witch –"

"She's gonna be a witch, Sammy. Or connected to one."

"If she's _not_ a witch, then we can at least give her a ride. Help her figure out what happened to her."

Dean glanced from the girl still having an identity crisis by the car to his brother and scoffed, "You sure we got time for that? I mean we gotta find Dad _and_ get you home by Monday."

"Seriously, Dean? You think I could live with myself if we just left her here?"

Dean chuckled and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Nah, I know you couldn't Sammy."

He left his little brother to diffuse in the road and walked over to the girl. She had turned around to lean against the door and was now staring hopelessly at her phone…which didn't have buttons. Dean curiously lifted an eyebrow and asked, "Listen, I get that this is beyond weird, but we need to go through your bag to see if there's anything in there that might explain what happened."

She appeared anxious and gripped the strap she re-looped over her shoulder after she picked it up from where it fell, but after staring at them for another moment she handed it to Dean. He nodded in thanks and set it on the hood of the Impala. Sam walked over as they both stared at it. The messenger bag was a forest green but almost had a teal hint to it and the _real_ leather top that flipped over to buckle it closed was a dark brown with lace of the same color layered over it. The long strap of matching leather barely looked worn, so the boys guessed it was either new or she took excellent care of it.

Dean lifted it open and immediately realized why she was hesitant. She _lived_ out of this bag. Sam was intrigued by how many pockets and sleeves were inside and how much she was able to carry; and it was so organized he actually felt bad about messing it up. But they had to go through it. She really did have _everything_ she could possibly need in there, but no hex bag or witchcraft of any kind. Though something did catch their eye: an arrow. Like a full on, carbon hunting with removable 3-blade broadhead, arrow! It was beautiful. They glanced at her to see that she was staring very intensely at them, so Sam made sure everything was put back in its rightful place and Dean brought it back over to her.

"Gotta say, now knowing how much you stuffed in here, seems like it should be a hell of a lot heavier."

She gave him the slightest of smiles and kept it on her lips as Sam walked over and offered, "There's nothing in there that could explain why this happened to you, but, if you want, we can try to help you figure out what happened. No matter what we'd like to give you a ride."

More of a smile brightened her face as she replied, "Yeah, thank you. That'd be really great."

Dean nodded and opened the back-passenger door for her to get in, but right as she was about to slip onto the seat he said, "Hold on, we should at least know your name."

She paused, gazed at them and answered, "Lynn."

"Hey Lynn, I'm Dean, that's my brother, Sam, and this –" he patted the roof of the Impala. "This is Baby. We'll take good care of you."


	2. Woman in White - Part 1

SERIES FINALE SPOILERS AHEAD (to skip, don't read paragraphs 2 and 3):

 _Lynn was curled up on the couch, wearing one of her many_ Supernatural _shirts, Hunter Check List sweatpants, anti-possession symbol slipper socks, and completely wrapped in her favorite_ Supernatural _blanket as she watched the series finale. She had lasted the entire season without coming across any spoilers so she could watch it all in one sitting and now she was on the very last episode. All of her Sam, Dean, Castiel (and friends) Pops watched her as she started sobbing five minutes in. They were so happy._

_Then they weren't. Lynn bawled with such uncontrolled intensity that she almost couldn't hear the brothers' last goodbye. Or 'Brothers in Arms' by Dire Straits playing when Sam was all alone with Miracle before shutting down the bunker forever. Or when Dean was met by Bobby in Heaven and took that epic ride to 'Carry On My Wayward Son' by Kansas while Sam lived the rest of his life with his son, Dean. Lynn found no moment to breathe and no matter how often she wiped the tears away, she could barely see the screen. So when the reimagined cover of 'Carry On' started to play when Dean said goodbye to Sam the same way Sam did to his brother, well, Lynn almost had to pause it._

_But then Dean rolled up to the bridge in the Impala and got out to enjoy the view. It was his blissfully content smile that allowed Lynn to finally fill her lungs. "Hey Sammy." And there he was, in the same outfit he wore in the pilot episode, smiling at Dean like no time had passed at all. "Dean." Then they hugged and Lynn started sobbing again. As they looked out into the vast paradise of Heaven, finally together and at peace, Lynn clung to everything_ Supernatural _around her to feel them close. As Jared and Jensen said their thank you's and goodbyes to the fans, Lynn caught a bright flash outside._

 _She wiped her eyes and turned to the balcony door of her apartment. Nothing, just blackness. She looked back at the screen as the credits rolled with their instrumental music and felt another wave of emotions crash down and drown her from the inside out. It was over. 15 years of her favorite show and most beloved characters had ended. Lynn had watched_ Supernatural _since the beginning and spent basically half her life with them. Her connection to Sam and Dean had lasted longer than any kind of relationship she ever had and now… it was over. And what an ending it was – profoundly, beautifully, and utterly heart wrenching. She would have them forever but the loss she felt was more powerful than anything she had grieved before._

_Another blinding flash broke open the night outside and this time Lynn was able to fully notice through the tears. There wasn't any thunder or rain, but the lightning continued to flash more and more. It was so bright that it didn't illuminate the complex outside – just flashed an impossible white light. Lynn was forced to shut her eyes every time it cracked the dark sky. She dried her eyes and went to the door. The wind was starting to pick up and in minutes the windchime hanging from her balcony light was violently swinging. Lynn slid the door open and walked outside to take it down before it shattered against the wall. As she grabbed the dangling metal, another flash of lightning struck and Lynn felt its force –_

Jerk her awake right as Dean pulled up to a gas station and parked at the pump. Shooting up in the backseat, Lynn dropped her bag on the floor and frantically looked around. She wasn't back in her apartment after watching the final episode. She was in the Impala. Lynn tried to catch her breath as she remembered what happened. That lightning flash had turned into headlights nearly running her over. And Sam and Dean… Lynn focused her eyes and saw them staring at her. _It was real._ _ **They**_ _were real!_ She was somehow with Sam and Dean in the pilot episode of _Supernatural_!

"Hey, it's ok. You're ok," said Dean as he leaned over the bench seat. "Remember us? Found you on the road last night and gave you a ride?"

"Glad you were able to get some sleep," added Sam in a soft voice. "Do you think you might be able to talk with us so we can try to figure out what happened to you?"

Lynn's eyes burned to the point of tears. How was this possible? How was she there with them? Too many of those tangled thoughts spun around and around in her head and every time she looked at the Winchester brothers, those thoughts tightened in her throat like a noose. Sam and Dean stared at her, confused and concerned, as she rubbed her eyes before the tears could spill.

"Sorry, we're not trying to overwhelm you or freak you out or anything," Sam said.

"No, no, it's uh… It's ok," Lynn replied as she shook her head, forcing herself to laugh so she wouldn't lose her nerve and give into tears. "I'm ok. I'm so ok that I'm pretty sure I'm dead."

"What? Lynn, no. You're – You're not dead."

She found Sam's sympathetic gaze and replied, "Oh I'm very convinced that I'm dead and a ghost. Nothing else makes sense."

"No, he's right," argued Dean. "If you were a ghost you wouldn't have scraped your hands and knees when you fell. And Sam wouldn't've been able to help you up." He hung his arm over the back of the seat and held up his hand to her, saying, "And you wouldn't be able to high five me." Lynn stared at his open hand as he smiled at her. "Come on. Let me prove to you that you're not dead. High five me."

Lynn looked at his hand and felt the tears clench in her throat. She glanced at Sam giving her a small smile, eyes searching hers to understand, and brought her focus back to Dean. He moved his hand closer with a bit of a smirk and said, "One little tap. Come on. You can do it."

She slowly lifted her hand and lightly pressed it against his. Dean's hand was warm against hers, rough from all those years hunting, but still gentle. Lynn inhaled a trembling breath at how small and slender her hand was against his. She let her eyes drift to Dean's and saw he was doing his best to smile, but when she caught Sam's gaze, the dam of emotions broke.

All she could see was their clasped hands in the finale. Lynn gasped back a wave of tears ready to spill from her eyes and pulled her whole arm into her chest. "I'm sorry," she cried and scrambled for the door handle. "I'm sorry, I just – I just need a minute." Lynn hurried out of the car and walked around the side of the building.

She hadn't had the time it took for the credits to finishing rolling to process the series finale and now… Now she was with them! On their very first hunt of the series! It shouldn't be possible. The lightning had to have hit her, burned her to a crisp, and this was her Heaven. How else could this be happening? Lynn found a wooden bench at the back of the gas station and sat down. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and clawed her fingers through her frizzed curls. Lynn forced in several deep breaths in order not to be carried out on the tearful riptide.

Lynn heard Dean get out of the car and put the pump in the tank. Sam opened his door and within moments, she heard them walk over to her. Lynn drew in a sharp breath and wiped her eyes, hoping they didn't look red. She smiled apologetically as they walked over, but nearly broke down at seeing them. It was all just so much.

"Look, I didn't mean to, uh…" Dean trailed awkwardly. "Whatever happened back there, I'm sorry."

Lynn's eyes widened as Dean shifted in place, having a hard time maintaining eye contact. But Sam found her gaze and with a comforting smile, said, "You don't have to worry, ok? You're not a ghost and whatever did happen to you, we'll figure it out. When you're ready, yeah?"

Lynn shook her head and felt her mouth gape in wonder. "What? How can – I don't –" She sighed and rubbed her eyes before looking back up at them to say, "I literally came out of nowhere and you guys not only gave me a ride, _you're_ apologizing to _me_ because I–" Lynn got to her feet, gulping back tears she would not let spill to finish, "You have nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who's sorry for just bursting into tears, it's just… I can't thank you enough for–for everything."

"We weren't just gonna leave you out there," Dean shrugged in reply. "Besides, it's kinda what we do."

Lynn pursed her lips into a smile and nodded. "Y–It means everything to me. Really."

"We can't promise that we'll figure this out fast or how to get you home, but we'll do what we can." Sam said as he put his hands in his pockets.

"In the meantime, want some breakfast?" asked Dean, turning to walk back to the gas station.

Sam headed back to the Impala and answered, "No thanks."

"I would." Lynn said and got a more relaxed smile from Dean.

"Awesome. Whad'ya want?"

Lynn thought for a moment and replied, "Sprite and HoHos please."

Dean smirked approvingly of her snack choice and went inside to get the road food. Lynn made her way back to the Impala and caught her reflection in the window again. She lightly touched her cheek and leaned in closer to the face staring back at her. Espresso curls tumbling down a few inches above her elbows – longer than she'd been used to for many years – and dark eyes to match that made her fair complexion have a youthful glow. _Is this all really possible?_ Lynn thought as she glanced down at her hand touching the window and rolled her palm upward.

"Hey," called Sam. "You alright?"

"Y-Yeah, I – erm – I just can't believe how crazy my hair looks," stammered Lynn as she got into the backseat.

Sam chuckled and replied, "After teleporting in a lightning storm across the country, I'd say your hair looks great."

Lynn smiled, trying to hide her warming cheeks, and mumbled, "Thanks."

She lifted her bag off the floor and was about to open it when Dean came around to their side of the car and said, "Breakfast is served." He handed Lynn her snack and drink, holding onto his own stuff while he checked on the gas.

Sam went back to looking at the box of cassettes, asking his brother, "So how'd you pay for that stuff? You and Dad still running credit card scams?"

Lynn's eyes darted up to watch them both as Dean replied, "Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro-ball career." He took the pump out of the tank and added, "Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Oh yeah? And what names did you write on the application this time?" Sam challenged, sitting back inside car and closing the door as his brother walked back to the driver's side.

"Uh… Bert Aframian and his son, Hector." Dean smiled as sat down and dropped his snacks on the middle seat. Sam smiled with him when he bragged, "Scored two cards out of the deal."

"Sounds about right." Lynn could feel her smile widening the longer she listened to them and it was a welcome change to the tears. She watched Sam look into the box as he said, "I swear, man, you gotta update your cassette tape collection."

"Why?"

"Well, for one they're cassette tapes. And two, Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Metallica?" He held an example of each up to his brother and stated, "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."

Dean grabbed the last one his little brother lifted up to make a point and responded, "Yeah, well, house rules, Sammy –" He put the cassette in and declared, "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole." Dean dropped the case back in the box and turned his attention to the Impala.

"You know "Sammy" is a chubby 12-year-old. It's Sam."

Lynn relaxed into the back seat as AC/DC's 'Back in Black' began to play and Dean sarcastically replied, "Sorry, I can't hear you. The music's too loud." With a smirk, Dean turned up the music and revved the engine. They drove out of the gas station and continued on their way. Dean glanced in the rearview mirror to see Lynn slightly banging her head to the beat and mouthing the lyrics. With a grin, he asked, "You like classic rock?"

"I like a lot of different kinds of music," she replied. "Classic rock is one of the kinds."

"Awesome," chuckled Dean and shot Sam another smirk. "Two against one."

Sam shook his head but huffed a bit of laughter with them. "So, Lynn, do you mind if I ask why you thought you were a – um – a ghost?"

Lynn curled her lips over teeth before replying, "Last thing I remember was a bolt of lightning hitting near me. Or at least, I think it had to be near me. It was so bright and suddenly that brightness was your headlights barreling forward. So it wasn't much of a stretch to think it actually hit and killed me instead."

"Right, but why would your ghost be with us?" Dean asked. "And what do you mean by ghost? Just another way to say you're dead or –" Lynn frowned when his question was cut off by Sam's sneer. "What?" he groaned as Sam clenched his jaw.

"I meant that if I was dead then my spirit left my body and attached itself to you guys." It was a risk and Lynn honestly couldn't tell if it was a smart one by the way they were staring at her. "But I don't think I'm dead anymore, so… there's that."

"Right…" said Dean, glancing at his brother in confusion before bringing his eyes back to the road. "So you believe in that sort of thing? Ghosts and…"

"Witches?" Sam twisted his head over his shoulder to stare at her and Lynn saw Dean's eyes shoot to the rearview mirror. Nodding, Lynn continued, "That's why you asked to look in my bag, right? To see if there were any hex bags that could've teleported me?"

"So you don't just _believe_ in the supernatural, you –" Sam stumbled to find the words and asked, "Are you a hunter?"

Lynn searched for the strength to smile and replied, "No, just saved by two of the best."

Sam and Dean exchanged looks, touched by her words, and returned her smile. Dean turned the music down to ask, "If you're not a hunter then how do you know that we are? How do you know the things that go bump in the night are real?"

"Believing it could be real because you're... sensitive to that kind of stuff is one thing and knowing it is after your teleported in a lightning storm is another."

The brothers laughed and Sam mused, "Well, the fact that you know it's all real should make this a lot easier, especially with everything else that we have to do."

Dean turned his head to catch Lynn's eye and shared, "Our dad was on a hunting trip and hasn't made contact in three weeks. That's why we're heading to Jericho."

"And we gotta find him before Monday," added Sam. "I have an interview for law school at Stanford that I can't miss."

Lynn felt her heart leap into her throat and her stomach flip like undercooked pancake. With a gulp and a breath, Lynn said, "If you want, I could help."

"Really?" they both asked, eyes sparking in shock and gratitude.

"Are you kidding? After everything you've done for me, it's the least I can do."

Dean smiled and excitedly accepted, "Alright! You help us find our dad and we help you figure out the whole storm traveling thing. Whad'ya think, Sammy?"

Sam shook his head and partly laughed in reply, "I think this job just got a whole lot better."

Lynn smiled and pulled her legs up to cross them over the seat. She watched them closely, lovingly, as they settled in the front seat to go over the next steps in finding their father and how to start researching what happened to Lynn… but she wasn't listening to their words. It was the sound of their voices, the movement of their gestures, the way they would glance at each other… it was _them._ Sam and Dean. And it was no longer about how they ended. It was how they began, and Lynn was inexplicably – miraculously – a part of it.


	3. Woman in White - Part 2

They drove up to the bridge where the police were investigating the crime scene. Lynn peered out the windshield with the brothers to see the abandoned car. _This is it,_ she thought. _The Woman in White… the start of it all._

Dean pulled over to the side of the road and parked. They looked out for a moment after he removed the keys from the ignition and then Dean reached over to open the glove box. He pulled out a small wooden box and Lynn couldn't help but feel a twinge of a smile as she watched Dean shuffle through all his fake ID's… and at the iconic "Seriously, Dean?!" face that Sam was giving him.

After choosing, Dean grinned at Sam and said, "Let's go."

Sam grabbed his brother's arm before he could fully open the door and yanked him back into the driver's seat. "Dean, what about…" They both turned to see Lynn sitting in the backseat. She awkwardly smiled, keeping her lips tightly together as she slid lower into the leather. "Are we just gonna leave her here?"

"Yeah," answered Dean. He lifted his chin toward Lynn and said, "Hang back for a minute, ok?" Lynn nodded and Dean looked at his brother with a smug grin. "See? All good. Come on, Sammy."

Sam sighed and followed Dean out of the car. Lynn watched them go and once they reached the local police on the bridge, she dove into her bag. "Where is it?" she hissed. She rummaged through the front pockets until she felt her wallet. Instantly gripping her fingers around the small and compact leather pouch, Lynn lifted it out and opened it. All her cards were there, but it was the driver's license she was needing. Lynn's eyes widened at the picture staring back at her. It was definitely her…only the picture was almost two decades old.

DOB 09/22/1986

"Yup," she sighed. "That's my birthday and that…"

EXP 09/22/07

"How in the hell?" Lynn wiped her finger over the date. That's when her very first license expired. And the first photo she took when she was sixteen. She let her head fall back onto the top of the seat and stared at the roof of the Impala. _Of course_ , she thought. _It's 2005! And in 2005 I was 19 so if it's the very first episode that would make me 19 again…_ Lynn shot up and stared at her reflection in the rearview mirror. _Holy mother of –_

Lynn jumped at the sound of a knock on her window. She pressed the hand holding her ID to her chest as she caught her breath. Two men in black jackets and dark sunglasses bent down to stare at her through the glass. The older one motioned for her to roll the window down as he asked, "Miss? May I ask what you're doing outside the crime scene?"

She slowly rolled down the window, trying to think of what to say and finally answered, "I'm here for a ride along, sirs."

"Ride along? With whom?"

"Us," replied Dean.

The FBI agents turned around as the sheriff came up to ask, "Can I help you boys?"

"No, sir. We were just leaving." Dean sneered as they all walked past him and Sam. "Agent Mulder. Agent Scully."

The brothers got back in the car and drove off. Sam turned to Lynn and asked, "You ok? Did they ask you anything?"

"Just why I was here."

"What'd you say?"

"That I was on a ride along."

Dean laughed and smacked the steering wheel approvingly. "Well, they can't say you lied to 'em!"

Lynn smiled at his reaction and put her wallet back as nonchalantly as possible while she asked, "So what'd you find out?"

"The vic's girlfriend – uh – Amy, is putting up missing posters in town." Sam answered.

"So we're gonna go talk to her to see if anything weird happened to him before he disappeared," added Dean.

Lynn glanced out the window and shifted in her seat. It only took a few minutes for the center of town to come into view and barely another few to see a couple of girls putting up colored flyers along the street. She propped herself onto the bench seat between the brothers and pointed out the window.

"That's her."

They both followed her line of sight and saw her by the theater. "Good lookin' out," said Dean and went to park a little up ahead.

"Do I have to stay in the car this time?"

He glanced at her and then at Sam, who raised an eyebrow in favor of Lynn. Dean aligned with the curb and turned off the car. They met her eyes and something in her deep brown orbs sparked in their hazel green. "Nah, you can come with us."

"Yeah?" Lynn beamed at them as they got out of the car.

Sam held the door open for her and said, "Yeah, it'll be good to have a female presence there when we talk to her."

"Just follow our lead," ordered Dean with a wink.

"What's our cover?" whispered Lynn as they approached the theater. "Out of town cousins or something?"

"Huh," Dean grunted. "Yeah, actually that's better than uncles."

"I know," murmured Lynn under her breath as they reached the girl in a tassel suede jacket taping another missing flyer to the wall.

"You must be Amy," Dean greeted.

She barely glanced at them and replied, "Yeah."

"Troy told us about you. We're his cousins. I'm Dean. This is Sammy and our friend, Lynn."

Amy glanced at them now and Lynn didn't need to see the expression on her face to feel how much she didn't care. Her one thought was helping to find Troy the only way she could. Amy reached into her bag for more posters and said, "He never mentioned you to me."

"Figures. We're technically his second cousins and live out in Modesto so we don't see him much."

Sam walked in front of them to catch Amy's eye and said, "So, we're looking for him, too, and we're kind of asking around."

Amy's friend walked up to her and asked, "Hey, are you ok?"

"Yeah."

"Do you mind if we ask you a couple questions?" Sam asked.

They agreed and walked over to the coffee shop across the way. Sam slid into the booth first with Dean offering Lynn a seat. As Lynn scooted over, Sam had to press himself against the wall so there would be enough room for Dean to sit on the edge without falling off. In any other situation, Lynn would be _beyond_ uncomfortable but this… _this_ was a dream come true. She was literally sandwiched between the real Winchester brothers! Lynn tried so hard not to fidget into one or both of their laps as Amy told them her side of the story of what happened to her boyfriend.

"I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and he – uh – he never did."

"He didn't say anything strange or out of the ordinary?"

Amy looked out the window as she replayed the conversation in her mind before answering Sam. "No, nothing I can remember."

"I like your necklace," said Sam in an attempt to comfort her.

Amy looked down and took the metal pentagram in her fingers as she replied, "Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents with all that devil stuff."

"Actually, it means the opposite." Sam's soft chuckle echoed her light laugh as he explained, "A pentagram means protection _against_ evil. Really powerful. If you believe in that sort of thing."

Lynn tensed. _My tattoo… my anti-possession tattoo! If I'm 19 then it's gone. Damn it!_

"Ok, thank you unsolved mysteries," griped Dean, jolting Lynn back to the present. "Here's the deal ladies, the way Troy disappeared - something's not right. So if you've heard anything…" The friends glanced at each other, so Dean pried, "What is it?"

"Well, it's just – I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk." Amy's friend replied.

"What do they talk about?" Sam and Dean asked at the same time. Lynn closed her eyes and basked in the moment. They were right up against her sides and spoke as one. Even if this all somehow wasn't real and she was dead or dreaming, Lynn didn't care because that was perfect.

"It's kinda this local legend," the friend explained, forcing Lynn's eyes open. "This one girl, she got murdered out on Centennial like decades ago. Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes and whoever picks her up, well they disappear forever."

The brothers nodded and glanced at each other, catching Lynn's eyes too. They thanked Amy and her friend for their help and left the coffee shop with a new mission.

* * *

"This is the research part," explained Dean as he typed in his search on the Jericho Herald Archive site. "Figuring out what we're dealing with." He pressed the go button, but no results were found for 'Female Murder Hitchhiking _._ ' Replacing the last word with Centennial Highway, he tried again but still no luck.

"Let me try," offered Sam, but his big brother slapped his hand away when he reached for the keyboard.

"I got it."

Taking it further, Sam shoved Dean's rolling chair across the line of computers and took his place in front of the screen. "Dude!" Dean punched at his arm as he made his way back over. "Such a control freak."

Rolling his eyes, Sam looked to Lynn and said, "Here, it's all about finding that one piece that makes everything fit." She glided over in her chair and listened as Sam continued, "Angry spirits are born out of violent deaths, so, maybe it's not murder." Sam replaced the word murder with suicide and got a hit.

Clicking on the link, Sam read, "This was 1981. Constance Welch, 24 years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river."

"Does it say why she did it?" asked Dean.

"Yeah."

Lynn winced at the reason, causing Dean to glance at her and then the screen. "What?"

"An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Her two little kids are in the bathtub, she leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die." Sam skimmed the article and read, '"Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it, said husband Joseph Welch.""

"That bridge look familiar to you?"

Lynn stared at the picture of her body being carried out of the river in a bag when Sam said, "We'll have to check it out when the cops clear out." Lynn blinked when he exited out of the screen and turned to see them looking at her.

"This is pretty much it," explained Dean. "Take what we know until we track down all the missing pieces to figure out what we're hunting so we can stop it. Or in your case, undo it."

Lynn sipped her tea latte in its to-go cup and admitted, "I think it'll be a bit more complicated than that."

"Eh, worst case scenario we just drive you home after we find our dad." Dean shrugged and got up from the chair.

Sam rolled his eyes, getting up himself, and promised, "Complicated or not, we agreed to help each other out, so you don't have to worry."

"Trying not to."

She walked with them back to the car and slowly curled her fingers over the cool metal handle. She hadn't been there a full 24 hours and the repercussions of what happened to her – what could happen to Sam and Dean _because_ of her – were starting to coil around her heart. Lynn opened the door and got inside, but her body didn't relax with the rumble of the engine as they drove off.

It wasn't just not having her tattoo because she was suddenly 19 again. It was just a piece of _everything_ that was crashing down on her. She was _actually_ there with them. They were real. It was _all real_. What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to handle it? Just follow their lead the entire series like she was watching it live? Immerse herself completely and change their destiny for the better? Was that even possible? _Should_ it be? Lynn slumped so far down into the seat she was almost half laying on the floor. Tangled freaking mess of thoughts knotting themselves around her to draw and quarter Lynn's mind, heart, and soul. Lynn drew in a sharp breath when they reached the bridge and forced herself back up.

There were no answers waiting in the darkness of that bridge, but it didn't matter. Lynn stared as Sam and Dean got out and started walking into the next fifteen years. It wasn't about answers. It was about choices. And Lynn chose Sam and Dean.

She got out of the Impala and walked with them along the railing as Dean said, "So this is where Constance took the swan dive."

"So you think Dad would've been here?"

"Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him."

Lynn stayed along the rail as Dean and Sam slowly made their way to the other side of the bridge. She knew what was coming and decided she shouldn't get in the middle of it.

"Ok, so now what?" Sam asked.

"Now we keep digging till we find him. It might take a while."

"Dean, I told you I've gotta get back by –"

"Monday." Dean finished for him, turning around to face his little brother. "Right. The interview. Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just gonna become some lawyer, marry your girl?"

"Maybe. Why not?"

"Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?"

"No, and she's never going to know."

"So a girl we've known a day – a _stranger_ who offered to help our family after we gave her a ride – knows more about you than your girlfriend? Well, that's healthy." Lynn shot him a look, but Dean wasn't paying attention to her. And neither was Sam. "You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later you're gonna have to face up to who you really are."

Dean turned to walk across the bridge, but Sam was far from done. "Who is that?"

"One of us."

Sam rushed in front of Dean to block his path and argued, "No, I'm not like you. This is not gonna be my life."

"Well, you have a responsibility."

"To Dad and his crusade? If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back."

Dean grabbed fistfuls of Sam's sweatshirt and hurled him into the metal railing. _Nope._ Lynn could see Dean's pained expression at Sam's words without looking at his face and didn't need to absorb it or Sam's inner turmoil. She had more than enough going on inside herself without adding that to it. At least tonight. Knowing Constance would show up soon and possess the Impala, forcing them over the bridge; Lynn decided to be preemptive. She carefully climbed over the side, holding on so tightly she thought the weathered bars might cut open her hands and remained as still as possible.

"Don't talk about her like that."

Dean's voice was almost as soft as the cold breeze chilling Lynn to her bones. He let Sam go, turning away from him in search for Lynn and found her… but she wasn't alone. "Sam." He called at the sight before them.

Lynn felt her before she saw her. The deathly cold that froze her in place, making her body tremble as her breath fogged the air. She slowly angled her head to see Constance staring directly into her. She wasn't angry or woeful… it was like she was curious. The Woman in White leaned so close to Lynn that for moment, she was afraid that Constance would go right through her. Instead she stopped right against her ear and whispered, "You can never go home."

Constance released herself from the edge and fell, disappearing into the night air. Lynn watched her fade into the blackness as Sam and Dean rushed over to her. She felt Dean grab her right arm and Sam grasp her left, but she still couldn't let go.

"Are you ok?" They asked frantically.

"Did she do something to you?" Dean questioned as he tried and failed to lift her over to their side.

Sam went to gently uncurl her fingers from the metal and let them curl around his hand, but right as he loosened her grip, they heard the Impala roar to life. They all twisted to stare into the headlights as it revved at them.

"What the…"

"Who's driving your car?" Sam asked.

Dean used his free hand to show that he still had the keys in his pocket. "Run," whispered Lynn through her frigid breath. They stared at her, not letting her go, as the tires screeched. "Run!"

No choice now. The Impala was gunning down the bridge right for them. Sam and Dean bolted but didn't make it halfway before the possessed car nearly caught up to them. In a desperate attempt to save themselves from getting run over, they flung themselves over the railing. Sam was able to hold on and climb back to safety once the car was no longer under Constance's control, but Dean… Dean splashed down into the river.

"Dean!"

"What?" he shouted back as he pulled himself onto the rocky bank.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Dean rolled over and replied, "I'm super."

Sam laughed at the sight of his uninjured brother covered in mud but was instantly silenced when he saw Lynn still on the wrong side of the railing. "Damn it!" He pulled himself over and ran back to her. He held onto her hand and this time, she fully grabbed it.

Lynn stared at him, eyes darker than the sky but still shining with fear, and whimpered, "I couldn't move. I wanted to, but she –"

"It's ok, you're ok," he soothed as he gathered her in his arms to help her back onto the bridge. "She's gone and you're safe."

Dean trudged himself over to the car after getting a nod from Sam that Lynn was all right. He opened the hood and checked everything out. As he slammed it shut, Sam asked, "Car alright?"

"Yeah, whatever she did to it, it seems alright now. That Constance chick – what a bitch!" Dean hollered into the night.

Sam walked with Lynn over to Dean leaning against the hood, taking off his outer jacket and wrapping it around Lynn's shaking shoulders. She smiled up at him in thanks and put her arms through the sleeves, hugging it around her center.

"Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure." Sam mused. "And she went after Lynn. That can't be good. So where does the trail go from here, genius?"

Dean threw up his arms and a new waft of mud and grime came off him. He looked down at himself and had to stop the instinctual reaction to wipe it off because it was everywhere. Lynn stifled a giggle and protected her sensitive nose by burying her face in Sam's jacket.

He sniffed and glanced at Dean to say, "You smell like a toilet."

They couldn't see it, but Lynn was smiling. Answers or no answers, she made the right choice.


	4. Woman in White - Part 3

Dean plopped his fake credit card in front of the motel manager and requested, "One room please."

He lifted it from the guest book and read the name. Glancing up at the three of them, he asked, "You guys having a reunion or something?"

"What do you mean?" replied Sam.

"That other guy, Bert Aframian. He came in and bought out a room for the whole month."

Dean and Sam glanced at each other with renewed hope from the new lead. After getting their own room, the brothers asked where "Bert" was staying, and immediately walked down the rows of doors until they found their father's. Sam picked the lock and Dean was look out, with Lynn watching them the whole time. Once the door was open, Sam walked inside. He turned to see Lynn gingerly step in, but Dean was still standing out there. He grabbed the back of Dean's jacket collar, dirt puffing into the air, and harshly yanked him into the room.

The door shut behind them and all three stared at the room in disarray. A suitcase was open and half empty on the unmade bed with books and notepads spread out all over the chairs and desk. Every wall was covered with maps, pictures, post its, and pages of info with red tape connecting the trail of clues together. Dean went over to the table lamp and turned it on, revealing a half-eaten burger left exposed in the wrapping. He picked it up, sniffing it, and groaned, "I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least."

Sam and Lynn stepped over a barrier of salt. He bent down and picked up the white grains, rubbing them between his fingers. Looking up at Dean, he said, "Salt, cat's-eye shells. He was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in."

Dean walked along the wall of the victim's profiles, trying to piece together what their father was hunting. "What do you got here?" Sam asked as he joined him.

"Centennial Highway victims. I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities…" Dean pondered.

Sam turned to see Lynn walking along the other walls and stopping in front of one specific page taped in the corner. Frowning, Sam followed and looked over her shoulder. It was a note hanging over the same article they found of Constance Welch. _Woman in White._

"There's always a connection, right?" Dean went on. "What do these guys have in common?"

"They're all unfaithful," answered Lynn.

"What?"

Sam leaned around her to turn on another lamp and illuminated the wall. "She's right. Dad figured it out. Found the same article we did on Constance Welch. She's a Woman in White."

"Ha! Look at you," chuckled Dean, giving Lynn a sly smile. "Little Miss Hunter-in-Training. Nice work."

Lynn sheepishly shrugged and replied, "It was on the wall."

"Yeah, but you found it and know the legend."

"How do you know the legend?" asked Sam.

"I-I like folklore and mythology," Lynn did her best not to stammer or slip up and tell them the whole truth. "So I like to read about a lot of different ones."

Sam slightly smiled, intrigued, and nodded saying, "That's definitely helpful in this line of work."

"All right, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would've found the corpse and destroyed it." Dean said.

"She might have another weakness."

"No, Dad would want to make sure. He'd dig her up." Dean strode over to the wall and glanced at the article, asking, "Does it say where she's buried?"

"No, not that I can tell," replied Sam. "If I were Dad, though, I'd go ask her husband. If he's still alive."

"All right, why don't you see if you and Lynn can find an address? I'm gonna get cleaned up."

Lynn stepped off to the side and found herself in front of the mirror. She stilled, staring at herself fully and clearly, and wondered if her own reflection would stop startling her. She was just so _young_. Not that she considered herself being among the elderly at 34 – hell she was actually in better shape than she was as a teenager – but it was one thing to look at a picture of yourself with an old friend on a high school graduation road trip and something completely different to be aged back into your 19-year-old body.

"Hey, Dean, what I said earlier about Mom and Dad…" Sam earnestly said, snapping Lynn back into her new reality. "I'm sorry."

Dean held up his hand and replied, "No chick-flick moments."

Sam scoffed out a laugh and playfully responded, "All right, jerk."

"Bitch."

Sam continued to lightly laugh as Dean went into the bathroom to take a shower. Lynn was biting down on her lips to keep from openly smiling like a total fangirl, but then something caught her eye. It was a picture of the boys and their father on the hood of the Impala. Lynn gently took it in her hands and studied it in awe. John was sitting in the middle with a young Sammy on his leg and a pre-teen Dean against his opposite shoulder, all in hats and flannel, but what made Lynn's eyes brighten with wonder was the fact that it was really Sam and Dean as kids. Child actors weren't chosen to pose in this picture because it was _real_. It was truly young Sam and Dean with their father.

Lynn felt Sam step up behind her to look at the picture she held. "I remember this," he whispered, reaching around to take it from her. "Dad was on a hunt and left us with a family friend, uh, Bobby Singer, and when he came back, we…" Sam trailed off as he stared at the picture, seeing the memory in his mind. "We all went fishing for the day. They caught so many and I only caught one, but my dad he – he gave me this smile and, uh… Bobby took this on our way back to grill 'em up for dinner."

At Sam's small smile, Lynn sweetly said, "Sounds like a wonderful day."

"Yeah," Sam's voice softly broke. "One of the best."

"You should keep it."

Sam glanced at her and sighed, "Yeah. Yeah, I think I will." He put it in his inside jacket pocket and finished, "I can give it back to him when we find him."

* * *

"Hey, it's me. It's about 10:20 Saturday night –" Sam listened to Jessica's voicemail as Dean emerged cleaned and dressed from his shower.

"Hey, man. I'm starving. I'm gonna grab a little something to eat at the diner down the street. You want anything?"

"No."

"Lynn?"

"If they have a chicken club sandwich with avocado and no tomato, I wouldn't say no."

Dean clicked his tongue as he pointed a finger gun at her and said, "Chicken club with avocado and no tomato. Got it! Sprite?"

Lynn's smile shone up at him as she replied, "Good memory. Thanks!"

"You're very welcome. Sure you don't want anything, Sammy?"

He shook his head and Dean shrugged as he went out the door. Lynn went back to flipping through the phone book ( _phone book!)_ to find Joseph Welch. She barely got through half a page when her head shot up and eyes darted to the door.

"Damn it!" she shouted, making Sam jump in his seat on the bed. Lynn ran for the door and right as she opened it, she saw Dean turn around and meet her eyes. Mouth agape, she stood in the doorway, frozen, as he cocked his head to signal her to get back inside. Lynn caught sight of the officers starting to walk over as Dean got on his phone to call Sam.

"What?" she heard Sam say behind her.

"Dude, five-0. Take off," Dean said as he stared directly at Lynn, desperately wanting her to close the door.

"What about you?" asked Sam, walking over to the window as Lynn finally shut the door and joined him at the curtains.

"Uh, they kinda spotted me. Go find Dad."

They watched Dean hang up the moment he turned around to face the officers.

"Where's your partner?"

"Partner? What – What partner?"

When the forefront deputy signaled his own to check out the room, Sam instantly grabbed Lynn's arm to pull her away from the window to get them out of there. Dean watched, trying not to worry, as the local cop inquired, "So fake U.S. Marshal, fake credit cards, and a fake ride-along… You got anything that's real?"

"My boobs."

Dean's sarcastic smile was not wiped from his face when the second deputy locked his arms behind his back and slammed him down on the hood of the car. It wasn't until the first was done reading him his rights and being pushed into the backseat that the smirk disappeared.

"So tell me, that girl you had in the back of your car. Who is she? Sheriff said she seemed scared, like she didn't know what to say when asked why she was there. She a friend? Hitchhiker?" He tilted his head and spat out the word, "Kidnappee?"

Dean's eyes grew dark and he growled, "You think I kidnapped her? I'm _helping_ her."

"Sure you are."

They shoved him into the car and drove off as Sam and Lynn snuck their way to the Impala and drove off themselves.

* * *

"So stupid!" Lynn seethed to herself.

"This isn't your fault, Lynn."

"Yes, it is! I got randomly distracted and somehow forgot that Dean got arrested. I mean, come on it's –" Lynn instantly shut up when she saw Sam stare at her with a confused brow out of the corner of her eye and realized what she just blurted out.

_Shit._

"What'd you mean, "forgot?" How could you've have known?"

"Uh, I just mean that…" Lynn mumbled as she picked her cuticles. "I saw the cops outside when I last looked out the window, so I should've said something." Taking a breath, she rolled with the lie that she did her best to formulate from truth. "I mean, after what happened on the bridge and the manager's comment about the name on the credit cards, I figured Dean crossing paths with the cops again would go wrong. I should've said something. I should've remembered."

Sam sympathetically sighed from the wheel and said, "It's ok, Lynn. This isn't on you. Besides, we – erm – we know how to deal with this kinda thing. Don't worry."

* * *

"So you want to give us your real name?" The sheriff asked, entering the room with a box full of evidence found at the motel.

"I told you. It's Nugent, Ted Nugent."

He placed the box down on the table across from Dean and replied, "I'm not sure you realize just how much trouble you're in here."

"We talkin' like misdemeanor kind of trouble or – uh – "squeal like a pig" trouble?"

"You got the faces of 10 missing persons taped to your wall, along with a whole lot of satanic mumbo jumbo. Boy, you are officially a suspect."

Dean rolled his eyes and scoffed, "That makes sense 'cause when the first one went missing in '82, I was three."

"I know you got partners. One of them's an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing and you decided to branch out into kidnapping young women."

"Seriously? You think I kidnapped her because, what? She was a bit nervous in talkin' to you? Ever think you just don't have a good cop-side manner?"

"I've been doing this a long time. I know what someone doesn't want to talk because they're scared they might say the wrong thing."

Dean shook his head and said, "You don't know what you're talkin' about."

"I don't?" the sheriff challenged. "Then tell me who she is to you."

"A friend."

"Friend? And if I looked up this _friend_ of yours, would her face be in the missing persons database?"

Dean raised an eyebrow and sarcastically replied, "Maybe in Connecticut."

"You think that's funny?" the sheriff barked.

"Yes! Because she's not a missing person! I didn't kidnap her!" Dean leaned back in the chair and begrudgingly said, "I was giving her a ride into town and dropped her off at the motel. That's it."

"If that's it, then tell me her name."

"Lynn."

"Lynn, what?"

Dean shrugged. "Don't know her last name. Don't know much about her at all, really."

"Because she doesn't matter? Just a ride-along, as you want me to believe?" The sheriff's frustrated chuckle sounded like he had gravel in his throat. "No. I think you got a lot to share about this, boy. About that girl, these missing people, your partners. So tell me, _Dean_ …" Dean glared up at the sheriff as he tossed his father's prized journal in front of him. "Is this his? The older man's?" He walked around the table to sit on the edge and look Dean in his stunned eyes and opened the cover to flip through the pages. "I thought that might be your name. See, I leafed through this, what little I could make out. I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy, but I found this too."

Dean leaned forward to see the message his father left him. Large numbers written in bolded ink under his name. _35-111._

"Now, you're staying right here till you tell me exactly what the hell that means."

* * *

Sam and Lynn walked up to the door and knocked, waiting for Joseph Welch to open it. Lynn felt very uneasy. This was obviously a very important part of the hunt, but the pain it put the person through… she could already feel its sting. He opened the door and looked up at Sam, who greeted, "Hi, uh, are you Joseph Welch?"

"Yeah."

"I was hoping we could ask you a few questions. Have you seen this man?" Sam said as he handed him the picture and pointed to his father.

"Yeah, he was older, but that's him." Joseph answered, giving the photo back to Sam. "He came by three or four days ago; said he was a reporter."

"That's right. We're working on a story together."

Joseph looked up at him as they walked and said, "Well, I don't know what the hell kind of story you're working on… The questions he asked me."

"About your late wife, Constance."

"He asked me where she was buried."

Lynn quickened her pace to come around the other side of Joseph and kindly inquired, "I apologize if the questions were perceived as harsh or strange. It's an unconventional article covering possible sources for local legends, so the personal inquires can potentially hit some nerves." They all slowed to a stop, Sam staring at her, mesmerized, as she held Joseph's attention. "It's not our intention at all, but unfortunately, we do need to ask again where your wife was laid to rest. For fact checking purposes. If you wouldn't mind, sir."

Joseph nodded and after taking a shaky breath, he answered, "In a plot behind my old place over on Breckenridge."

"Thank you and I'm so sorry for your loss, Mr. Welch." Lynn said, her tone soft and compassionate. "I can understand why you would want her to rest there, even if you couldn't stay."

"Yeah, I – uh – I couldn't live in the house where my children died."

Sam nodded and gently pried, "Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?"

"No way. Constance, she was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I ever known."

"So you had a happy marriage?"

Joseph hesitated, weight of the past dimming his eyes, before saying, "Definitely. Why do you ask? Is it part of the – uh – what'd you say this article was about?"

Lynn blinked when he directed the question at her. She took a moment to ready her answer and replied, "It's about the local legend. Of the woman who hitchhikes? With all the missing people recently, our paper wanted to do a piece on it and we have to find potential sources."

"And you think that, what, my wife is a potential _source_?"

At the anger in his tone and pain threatening to crack his voice, Lynn took a small step toward him and calmly said, "With the timing and location of her death, yes, she fits two out of the three criteria that we researched for what folklore tale fits your town's local legend. So if you don't mind my asking, if you've ever heard of a woman in white?"

"Or sometimes weeping woman?" added Sam.

Joseph shook his head. "No. What the hell does that have to do with Constance?"

"It's a ghost story," Sam explained. "Well, it's more of a phenomenon, really, um, they're spirits. They've been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places in Hawaii and Mexico. Lately in Arizona, Indiana. All these are different women, you understand, but all have the same story."

"And this is what you're writing about? About what you think of my wife? Boy, I don't care much for nonsense."

"We mean no offense, Mr. Welch." Lynn cut Sam off from speaking again and kept her voice as compassionate as possible. "And we're not trying to fit your wife into this story. In fact, quite the opposite." She saw Joseph relax a bit, while Sam was growing a bit tense at where she was going with it. "I would prefer the truth over fictionalizing a tragic death into a ghost story, which is what our editor wants. What our co-writer wanted."

Joseph nodded, so Lynn continued, "The story shared by every woman in white is that when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them and upon realizing this, they suffered from temporary insanity and murdered their children. Coming out if it and not being able to cope with what they've done; they took their own lives. It's how they become cursed spirits and are doomed to walk backroads, waterways, searching for unfaithful men to kill. And the ones they find are never seen again."

"You think… _This_ is the article?"

At the pain in Joseph's voice, Lynn said, "The unconventional article, yes, but like I said: I'd rather make it about the truth than about a local ghost story. Don't you agree?"

"Damn right. I mean, maybe I made some mistakes, but no matter what I did, Constance never would have killed her own children. So don't you dare let that be printed. You promise me."

"Sir, I give you my word that if I have any say about it, the article won't even be written at all. But if it is, I won't allow it to exploit your wife's tragic death for the local ghost story angle."

Joseph nodded, his eyes and breath holding back tears, and he took her hand to say, "Thank you."

"No, thank you, Mr. Welch. For letting us interview you, both times."

As he turned and walked back to his home, Sam and Lynn got back in the Impala and drove off to find the old Welch house. Lynn released a deep sigh and hung her head back on the bench seat. Catching Sam glancing at her out of the corner of her eye again, she asked, "What?"

"Are you a real reporter or something? Journalist, column or freelance writer? Because that was amazing."

With an awkward laugh, Lynn replied, "Not at all. I – uh – manage a privately owned bookstore."

"Really?"

"Yeah, the Shelf Indulgence Bookshop. I started as a bookseller and didn't plan on being there more than a year because I – well, I don't exactly live a life with roots either, but I liked it there so much that within a year I was promoted to a shift lead and a few months after that, I was the store manager because the owner decided to half-retire." Lynn smiled at the memory and finished, "She actually told me a while ago that she was gonna sign over ownership to me in the next couple of years when she retired for real."

"Wow, that's –" Sam tried to find the words. "I mean, earning your way up to becoming a business owner at your age is… unusual."

Lynn looked over at him with a little smirk and asked, "And by unusual you mean…"

Coughing out a laugh, Sam explained, "I mean, like your basically my age, right? I thought you'd be in college, figuring out what you want to do, not already doing it. It's impressive."

 _Yeah, that would've been a lot more impressive than what I was actually doing at 19_. Lynn tilted her head and gazed out the window as the sun dipped below the horizon. "Thanks."

"Can I – erm – Can I ask how old you are?"

Lynn had to stifle a chuckle. _Because that answer's not complicated._ "I'm 19."

"What? Really?" Sam sharply turned his head to stare at her before returning his eyes to the road. "I didn't think you were – uh – I mean, I thought that…" He caught her eyes again to see her thoroughly enjoying him stammer and decided to laugh it off. "Sorry, I just didn't think you were that much younger than us."

"It's only a few years, Sam. You're 22 and Dean's 26," Lynn quickly remembered to end her statement as a question.

"Yeah. Good guess."

"Three- and seven-years difference isn't that much, so you're not wrong. I'm basically your age." _Plus 15 extra years lived I get to keep inside my head._

"Yeah, well, I stand by what I said. You're a very impressive person, Lynn."

She smiled over at him, feeling her cheeks flush at the compliment, and said, "That's really sweet of you to say, but I'm really not that special. You and Dean, you're the impressive ones." She could tell Sam was about to respond, so she asked, "Speaking of, how're we gonna help him get out of jail? We can't do this without him."

"Don't worry. I got a plan."

* * *

"Fake 911 phone call, Sammy?" Dean said approvingly into the payphone after escaping his handcuffs and sneaking out of the sheriff's station. "I don't know, that's pretty illegal."

"You're welcome."

"Listen, we gotta talk."

"Tell me about it. Thanks to Lynn, the husband _admitted_ to being unfaithful. We _are_ dealing with a woman in white and she's buried behind her old house, so that should've been Dad's next stop –"

"Sammy, would you shut up for a second?"

"I just can't figure out why he hasn't destroyed the corpse yet."

"Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho."

"What?" Sam's eyes shot to Lynn and asked Dean, "How do you know Dad left?"

"I've got his journal."

"His journal? He doesn't go anywhere without that thing."

"Yeah, well, he did this time."

"What's it say?"

Dean looked down at the note he left and replied, "Same old ex-marine crap when he wants to let us know where he's going.

"Coordinates. Where to?"

"I'm not sure yet."

Lynn focused her sight on the shrouded road, knowing what was coming next and felt the adrenaline flood her veins.

"Dean, what the hell is going on?"

"Look out!" she screamed, and Sam pressed his entire body weight onto the breaks when he saw the ghost of Constance standing in the middle of the road. Tired screeched to a halt and Sam gripped the wheel so tightly that his knuckles almost turned white. Lynn could hear Dean calling out to his brother from the phone's speakers underneath her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Sam breathed heavily, trying to ease his own heartrate, and looked over to her.

"You ok?"

"Yeah. You?"

Sam nodded, but jumped when he saw Constance in the rearview mirror. She was in the backseat. Sam stilled, trying not to set her off, while Lynn felt a sharp chill scrape over her skin and seep into her bones. Constance flickered closer, dark eyes invasive and unnerved as she stared at Lynn. She shivered at the closeness. It's what she imagined dying from hypothermia would feel like, if she were a small animal ensnared in the dead of night during winter. But there was more to how Constance was ensnaring her. Something kindred that Lynn didn't understand. She slowly twisted her neck and her own dark eyes connected with the woman in white.

"Take me home."


	5. Woman in White - Part 4

" _Take me home_." Constance demanded more forcefully.

Lynn's body went rigid as her voice echoed in her ears. The Woman in White leered at Sam when Lynn didn't respond. He took a deep breath, staring back at her in the mirror, and firmly answered, "No."

Constance tilted her head, angrily narrowing her eyes, and leaned back into her seat. Suddenly, all of the doors locked, and the Impala put itself into drive. Sam and Lynn bolted to unlock the doors, but it was no use. They were rumbling down the dark, empty road and no matter how hard Sam gripped the steering wheel, it moved on its own, steering them to the abandoned house. Lynn kept her eyes fixed on the worn, cracked planks of the structure. Its bones were weak and broken, waiting to fall and swallow them whole.

The car came to a stop and Constance joined Lynn in looking at the house through the safety of the window. "I can never go home," she whimpered. In a blink, she was sitting in the middle of the front seat, severely staring at Lynn, and shrilled, " _You_ can never go home."

Lynn turned her head, feeling the cold break from her skin, and replied, "What home?"

Constance flickered, eyes wide in shock, and vanished from sight. Lynn's eyes calmed when she saw Sam looking back at her, but the moment was fleeting. Abruptly, the door swung open and Lynn was violently thrown from the car and across the dirt.

"Lynn!" Sam shouted but the door immediately slammed itself shut and locked him inside. The Woman in White stood over her with a glare that burned worse than the cold. "Don't do this! Leave her alone!"

Constance twisted her head, her visage flickering, and sneered. She waved her hand and Lynn's body hurled itself through the fence and onto the far side of the porch. Upon impact, Lynn wasn't sure if it was just the aged wood or also her bones that were snapping. She tried to lift herself up, but the pain pounded throughout her body. Sam angled himself down on the seat and kicked his legs against the passenger window as hard as he could, but the glass wouldn't break. But it would frost over.

The Woman in White was suddenly beside him, pinning him down on his back as she straddled him. "Hold me," she pleaded. "I'm so cold."

Sam groaned at the crushing contact of her touch. "You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been."

She tightened her hold to hear him cry out in pain and leaned down to murmur in his ear, "You will be." Constance gripped his jaw and took his mouth in hers. Sam fought her off as best he could, but she was using all her strength to keep him almost completely paralyzed. He reached with his hand, trying to grasp the keys in the ignition, but right as his fingers touched the metal, Constance lifted herself above him. For a moment, she seemed to have vanished… until Sam felt her hand clawing inside his chest. Screaming out in agony, Sam unzipped his hoodie to reveal her crushing his heart.

Lynn pulled herself up at hearing Sam scream and knew what she had to do. No more cold, no more fear, no more being useless. Limping into the house, she made her way over the debris and leaned against the railing. She glanced up the stairs and called, "Kids? Your mommy's here!" Lynn gasped when they instantly appeared in front of her. "You've been waiting for her, yeah?" Their little deathly pale faces nodded and vanished when gunshots rang out.

Lynn peered out the broken windows to see Dean run up to the car. Constance flashed from sight again, only to reappear for a couple more shots from the older brother. The moment she was gone, Sam dragged himself up to turn on the car, but stopped twisting the keys when he saw Lynn standing in the doorway.

"Constance!" She cried out. "Time to come home!"

She appeared behind Lynn. Before Constance had the chance to attack, she whipped the fire iron she saw lying near the fireplace right through the ghost. Constance was forced to vanish, so Lynn looked back out to the brothers and called, "Come on!"

They ran inside to meet her only Lynn had wandered to the center of the floor as Constance reappeared to pick up a photo of herself with her children. Lynn stared at the dirt and dust covering frame and brought her eyes to meet Constance when she felt the ghostly woman staring yet again. Constance threw the picture down and swiftly moved in front of Lynn. She glared up at the young girl outraged, but she had lost all power over Lynn.

"Welcome home."

The dead lights crackled to life all around them and water began to flood down the stairs. Constance turned, the pain taking over her spirit as she moved to the base of the stairs. But her children weren't waiting at the top. Constance turned in terror at seeing her boy and girl standing on either side of Lynn, covered in shadow and drenched with betrayal. They flashed in front of her, holding hands, and whispered, "She brought you home to us, Mommy."

They moved in to hug her and Constance shrieked. It was so piercing that it splintered the walls. The children enveloped her, dragging her down into the floor, as their forms transformed into grotesque reflections of themselves. In a bright flash, they all vanished, leaving nothing but a water stain on the floor at Lynn's feet. Sam and Dean slowly made their way over to her and glanced at the ground. A puddle. After all that, it was a mere _puddle_.

"So this is where she drowned her kids." Dean mused.

"That's why she could never go home," sighed Sam in realization. "She was too scared to face 'em."

"You found her weak spot. Nice work, Lynn. Right Sammy?" Dean said with a firm pat on Sam's still sensitive chest and Lynn's already throbbing shoulder. This earned him pained snickers from both of them. Sounds he ignored as he walked back to his car.

"Very right. I wish I could say the same for you," rebutted Sam. "What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"

Dean pointed at him as they left the house and replied with a smirk, "Hey, saved your ass."

Sam laughed at the look Dean gave him and shook his head. Catching Lynn trying to slowly stretch her limbs down the porch steps, Sam asked, "You alright? She threw you pretty hard."

"Gonna need some Advil, but I'll live."

"Atta girl!" Dean chimed in with a thumbs up. "We'll make a hunter outta you yet."

"Dean!" groaned Sam.

"What?"

"We're supposed to help her get home not train her to hunt."

"She's also supposed to help us find Dad and to do that she's gotta learn to hunt a little, Sam."

"She doesn't need to hunt to do that, Dean!"

Lynn smiled at the brothers while they argued and when they all got back in the car, she softly said, "I think I'll make this home."

* * *

They drove into the night and Lynn folded her arms across the top of the front seat and rested her head on her wrist to glance at the journal in Sam's lap. He propped the flashlight in the crook of his neck and found the coordinates their father left them on the map. But Lynn wasn't thinking about their next hunt in the search to find John Winchester. Now that the first hunt was over, that she was settled in the Impala with Sam and Dean with a moment to relax – a safe moment to take it all in – only one thought reached the front of her mind and spread through every synapsis: Jess was going to die the same way their mother did.

And if Lynn was being honest, she pushed this thought from her mind the entire time and stayed quiet for one very selfish reason: if Jess doesn't die then Sam doesn't go hunting and the whole of _Supernatural_ never happens. Or so she spent 15 years believing.

"Ok, here's where Dad went. It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado." Sam said, snapping Lynn back into focus.

"Sounds charming. How far?" Dean asked.

"About 600 miles."

"If we shag ass, we can make it by morning."

"No!" Lynn burst. Dean and Sam jumped and twisted themselves to glance at her with adrenaline fueled confusion. "Sam needs to get home. Now."

Taking a breath to slow his heart rate, Sam responded, "She's right, Dean. The interview's in 10 hours. I gotta be there."

Dean cast his eyes onto the asphalt stretching out in front of him and begrudgingly nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, whatever." He glanced over at Sam and did his best to smile, but Lynn could feel his sadness. "I'll take you home."

Lynn nervously tapped the leather and suggested, "Maybe we could go faster? How far out are we anyway?"

"A few hours –"

"Let's make it a couple. What the hell? Let's make it one!" Lynn interrupted with an anxious smile. "Punch it."

Dean shifted in his seat and frowned at her. "Punch it? What's the rush? You got an interview too or somethin?"

"What? No. I just, uh –" Her eyes darted between the brothers as she tried to find the right way to explain without freaking them out with the truth. "I have this – uh – feeling, ya know? I mean, your dad abandoned a hunt without a word; just a few numbers written for you to find and… what? That's _not_ foreboding?" Lynn's dull nails gripped the seat when Sam and Dean's eyes broke away from her and found each other's. "Look, I-I know that you don't know me from a hole in the wall, but I'm someone who goes with their gut and – not to toot my own horn but – my gut is never wrong. And my gut is worried about what's waiting for Sam at home."

She inched forward and searched for Sam's gaze. "So if your guts have ever experienced something like _that_ , I'm hoping you'll trust mine."

Sam gulped and slightly squirmed as his dreams of Jess burning on the ceiling flashed in his mind. Dean looked over at them and huffed, "Hey, this whole thing with Dad… I only got my gut to go on."

"So, you'll punch it?" asked Lynn. "Because I'd also love to feel how fast this baby can go."

Dean sent her a sexy smirk which soothed her smile and revved the engine. With a powerful surge, the Impala sped off. Lynn shouted in excitement and Dean laughed in enjoyment of her reaction. Sam grinned with them and turned off the flashlight as Dean turned up the music.

Lynn placed her chin back on her folded arms and looked to Sam to ask, "Tell me about Jessica. How long you been together?"

Sam blushingly chuckled and replied, "Uh we've been together almost three years. Moved in together a year ago. It's been great. _She's_ great."

"You love her a lot, huh?"

"Oh yeah, completely. Jess means so much to me. She, uh, she's a political science major because she wants to make the world a better place. Be a public relations specialist for someone she believes in, ya know?"

Dean grinned at hearing his little brother talk so lovingly about someone and asked, "That how you two met? In the same class or something?"

"No, uh, a friend introduced us, but we did have a few classes together last couple of years." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Opening it, Sam lifted out a picture he had of the two of them and handed it to Lynn to see. "She's from Lakeport and I got to spend the last few holidays ups there with her and her parents. We go running together, she bakes all the time, listens to 80s pop songs with me, always want to cuddle on the couch when we watch TV…"

Lynn brought her eyes from the adorable picture of them hugging in front of a gushing fountain in the warm sunlight to find Sam in a daze of memory. "She actually has your birthday, Dean."

"Seriously? She's a January 24th baby too?"

Sam chuckled with his brother and responded, "Yeah. Last two years when we'd celebrate her birthday, I'd wish you a happy one too. Didn't know where you were or how you were but…"

Dean's lips curled into a flattered (almost smug) grin. "Aren't you sweet, Sammy."

"It's _Sam_." He teased back.

* * *

The rest of the drive remained full of pleasant conversation with Sam talking more about Jess, Lynn talking about her bookstore, and Dean fluffing his feathers over his last few hunts on his own. When they arrived outside Sam's apartment, Dean slowed to a stop and watched Sam grab his bag as he got out of the car. He opened the back door to help Lynn out and held the passenger door open for her to take the prime seat. He bent down to smile at them, but there was a melancholy underneath.

"You'll call me if you find him?" Sam requested. "Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"

"Yeah, alright." Dean nodded as Sam patted the door. He turned on the engine and then called out to his brother, "Sam! You know, we made a hell of a team back there."

"Yeah," Sam agreed with a small grin. "Three of us… we're good."

Lynn forced a tight-lipped smile to keep herself from bursting again, but her wild eyes were enough to push Sam from the car and walk into the complex. Dean drove off and told Lynn, "He's right. We are good, even if we're one down." He looked over at her and finished, "But you're with me, right?"

She sharply turned her head to promise, "Always. Until the very end of the road, with you driving and Sam shotgun."

"Ah, great, but –"

"No but. We gotta get him. Now. Drive around the back."

"What?" Dean stammered as he came to the stop sign and leaned over to demand, "What're you talking about? What's going on?"

Lynn forced air into her lungs and intensely met Dean's eyes. "I'm gonna ask you to keep trusting me because we don't have the time for me to try to explain, especially since I have no idea where to even start. We need to cover the back."

"O-Ok, yeah." Dean took a right to curve around the building. "Gonna need more on this instinctual mojo or whatever it is about you, but… for whatever reason _I_ can't explain, I trust you."

She smiled at him in thanks as they drove up to see the stairs leading to Sam's level of the apartments. It wasn't very well lit, save for the corridors, but there was enough to illuminate someone rushing out and bounding down the metal steps. Lynn couldn't make out his face, only his short blonde hair. _Brady_.

Lynn didn't think. She just reacted. Shoving the door open while the Impala was still inching forward, she yelled to Dean, "Get to Sam! Now!"

"Woah! Lynn – what the hell?"

She didn't stop to answer. She gripped the fire iron and bolted forward as fast as her feet could take her. He had slowed on the sidewalk up ahead and kept to the shadows between the trees. She saw him peer to the corridor he escaped from as if he were waiting for something. But his eyes soon found her instead. Brady cocked his head, frowning in confusion as he clearly didn't see her as a threat, so Lynn used his moment of confusion to swing the fire iron as hard as she could across his face.

Brady bellowed in pain, the iron burning his flesh, and he reached up to touch his temple. The demon looked down at his blood-soaked palm and released a wicked laugh. "What the hell was that?"

Lynn struck the sharp poker forward, trying to stab him through the abdomen, but Brady caught her wrist and twisted it so harshly that Lynn was forced to drop her weapon. Brady pulled her into his chest, and she tried to jump back, only Brady was far too strong for her to physically overpower him.

"I'll say again," he growled with devilish smile. "What. The hell. Was that?"

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas –" Lynn began to recite from memory, causing Brady to roar and loosen his grip on her. "Omnis incursio infernalis adversarii!" She wriggled free and bent down to regain her fire iron.

Brady dropped and pinned her on the cold ground, his dominant hand attempting to squeeze her throat. "Omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica!" She yelled up at him as she pushed the fire iron up against his neck. Brady screamed, his flesh sizzling, but he endured the pain and violently shook his head, trying to fight off the exorcism. His eyes went black and he barred his teeth, panting in a rage. "Ergo, omnis legio diabolica, adiuramus te…"

Lynn grunted at the pressure of the demon's hands trying to crush her throat but was finally able to strike him hard enough to get him off her. She crawled back to her feet and chanted, "Cessa decipere humanas creaturas, esique æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare –"

"Alright! Enough!" Brady shouted as he shoved himself onto his knees. "Enough, bitch! I get it!"

Lynn stopped and glared. "Do you, Brady? Do you _get it_?" She smacked him again as hard as she could, except it only made him laugh.

"Yeah, I do, you naïve little skank. Got yourself an old iron poker and a memorized exorcism and you think you can take me on?" Brady lifted himself back on his feet and snarled at her. "All it takes is one ride with the Winchester brothers and all the smart just drains outta you, huh?"

Lynn narrowed her eyes and chanted, "Vade satana inventor et magister omnis fallaciæ, hostis humanæ salutis –"

"You think it's gonna end with me?" Brady hollered out as the recited words clawed their way into his darkened soul. "You think it'll save Sam from what I've done here?"

"What?"

Brady's vile laugh cracked open the night air. "You _interrupted_ me, sweetheart. You didn't stop me." He drew in a deep breath as the exorcism lessened its hold and continued, "Honestly, _Lynn_ , did you really think that no one would sense your arrival? That you could cut open the dark and step into this world without _him_ knowing?"

Her eyes widened, breath quickened, and instinctively gripped her weapon so tightly that her knuckles began to turn white. Brady sneered and subtly stalked his prey, slowly forcing her back into the cover of the trees. "We may not know who or _what_ you are – _yet_ – but you're in Azazel's sights now."

"I'm nobody," her voice quivered barely above a whisper as her back lightly bumped against the bark.

"We strongly disagree. That's why Azazel sent one of us to track you down. To watch you with his favorite and report back. Whole inner circle got the memo on you, baby."

Lynn lunged the fire iron forward and stabbed him between the ribs and said, "Then I should probably send you packing. Humiliare sub potenti manu Dei!"

"Or you could save Sam!" Brady savagely wailed.

"What're you talking about? Dean's –"

" _Dean_? Ha! D'you already forget?" the demon mocked. "Such a sweet but stupid little bitch. I told you, you _interrupted_ me. I still did what I came here to do. Sammy should be holding that pretty blonde meat-sack in his arms right now, life bleeding from her body. Didn't have enough time to pin her to the ceiling, but it's the fire that matters. And I can set it from here."

"You're bluffing."

"I'm really not." They stared at each other, Brady's hatred and fury reflecting the horror and despair in her eyes. "So, I guess you have a choice to make. Finish your exorcism knowing I'll light the match before it's done, _or_ the little lassie can run to save her masters before they burn. What's it gonna be?"

Lynn twisted the iron piercing his lung and said, "You need Sam alive. You need him out there hunting, _honing his skills_." She quoted the yellow eyed demon from memory as Brady grunted in pain. "You wouldn't risk killing him."

"Or maybe that's just Plan A and we have Plans B through Z ready to go for every possible outcome of tonight." Brady could see her falter and evilly chuckled, "We're willing to risk it. Are you?"

* * *

Dean fought every fiber telling him to follow Lynn and flew up the stairs. He found his way to the front door and kicked it down, yelling for Sam as he stormed in with his gun raised. It didn't take him more than two strides to see his little brother gathering Jess in his arms. She was cut open across the stomach, blood pouring out of her and soaking her white nightgown, with her entire body pinned to the wall.

"Dean! Help!"

He rushed over as Sam was able to lift her body off the wall and gently onto his chest. Dean secured her waist and legs as painlessly as possible, but whimpers still escaped her. The brothers very carefully brought her body to the ground where Sam delicately held her in his lap. Jess looked up at him with widened eyes. Absolute terror filled the hazel blue and desperation leaked from them, rolling down her cheeks. Sam wiped them away with his thumb and tried to smile down at her to give her comfort.

"It's ok, Jess. It's gonna be ok. I'm here. We're gonna get you help."

He gave every effort to keep his voice calm, keeping pressure on her wound, but he could feel her body becoming colder and colder beneath his hands as the life drained from her. Sam looked up at his brother dialing 911 and felt his own tears sting his eyes. "I saw someone in here. He ran around back to get out the door after I came in and found her."

Jess reached up to grab his collar and he instantly took her hand in his. "Jess," he softly said. "Jess, what did this to you?"

She opened her mouth, but only whimpers came out. No real words were able to form on her lips. He shushed her and cooed, "It's ok. Don't talk. We can figure it out later. You just hold on, ok? Help's coming."

"You saw someone run out of here?" Dean questioned as he finished the call to the police and Sam nodded in answer. "Was it a guy? Blonde hair, dark jacket, fast on his feet?"

"Y-Yeah, I think so."

Dean's eyes widened and he shook his head. "Damn it, Lynn."

"What?" Sam asked, realizing she wasn't there and feeling even more dread take control.

"She saw him run down the stairs and went after him."

"Why – how would she," Jess gripped Sam's hand as tightly as she could, interrupting his response. He returned his gaze to her as she gasped for breath and held her close. The color was fading from her face and light dimming in her eyes, but she was still there with him. Jess opened her mouth and tried to speak, to tell him what happened, but only one word was able to escape on a whisper.

"Re…turn…"

"What?" Sam asked, searching her closing eyes. "Jess, what does that mean? Hey!" He lightly shook her, gathering her up against him as he cradled her head. "Stay with me! Jess? JESS!"

Dean tore his attention away from his brother and stared at the fractured door. Sirens faintly came into earshot, but it was the pounding footsteps he was readying for. Dean raised his gun and waited for an attack, only it was Lynn sprinting into the apartment. He lowered the firearm and demanded, "What the hell were you thinking?"

She blew right passed him and knelt in front of Sam, tucking her arms under Jessica's body. "We gotta go. Now! Get her up! We need to move before –"

Flames swallowed her warning. Hellfire ignited all around them faster than they could inhale whatever oxygen was left. Dean was thrust back into the wall as the heat erupted toward them and Sam shielded Jess as it tried to trap them on the floor. The flames raged and burned like it was alive. It chased them, jaw unhinged to consume them whole, as the brothers barely escaped the apartment. Lynn had been cornered on the other side of the room, coughing on the wild smoke clawing its way into her lungs. But it wasn't the demon coming after her. Not directly. He was using the fire.

It violently scorched down on her and Lynn dodged around it. She used every piece of furniture untouched by the flames to shield herself, but it wasn't enough. Forcing her way around the apartment to reach the door, the fire bit at her skin and she felt it burn into her arm. Lynn screamed and dropped to the hardwood floor. The heat was too much to fight and the smoke replaced nearly all breathable air. All she felt was the burn melting through her flesh until it lit her soul ablaze.

Dean rushed back into the fire after Sam was a safe distance away with Jess to gather Lynn into his arms and just as quickly rushed them out. He carried her down the stairs and into the street where Sam rocked Jessica's lifeless body in his arms. Lynn coughed and frantically gasped for air as Dean sat them down on the curb out front. The fire exploded through the windows, daring the fire fighters to face it head on, but it was no match for the hoses. So many colorful lights from the police, ambulance, and fire trucks, flashed around them. And even more people collected in the street to watch the tragedy unfold.

Lynn held onto Dean's jacket as he wiped the tear-stained grime from her face. He carefully checked her over and saw the burn on her arm. It was a deep red and very raw, but what made Dean peer closer was that it seemed to form some kind of shape… as though someone took a blowtorch to her arm and drew a symbol, but it was too fresh and swollen to fully make it out.

"You're hurt." He said and flagged down the paramedics.

* * *

Lynn wasn't sure how much time passed. She remembered her burns being treated in the ambulance and watching Jess's body being bagged up onto a gurney and rolled away. She remembered watching Sam and Dean talk to the police and firemen before she was questioned by them as well. She also remembered signing her name on some official piece of paper after refusing to be taken to the hospital. She remembered Dean meeting her at the ambulance after the fire was nothing but white smoke dissipating in the wind and walking her back to the Impala, where Sam was staring down into the open trunk. Lynn remembered it all, but she wasn't really there. Her mind was back with Brady.

" _Honestly,_ Lynn _, did you really think that no one would sense your arrival? That you could cut open the dark and step into this world without_ him _knowing? We may not know who or_ what _you are –_ yet _– but you're in Azazel's sights now."_

If the yellow-eyed demon knew she was there and wanted to know _everything_ … others might have sensed her too. Other high-ranking demons, powerful witches, intrigued deities, Heaven and its angels. What if they all had the same questions she had about what happened to her? And what if they didn't like what little to no answers she had? Lynn shook her head and lightly rubbed over the bandages on her arm. _What does it matter if I can't save the people they love? If I can't save_ _ **them**_ _?_ she thought and sorrowfully looked up at Sam as he tossed the shotgun in the trunk.

"We got work to do."

And he slammed it shut.


	6. Wendigo - Part 1

"Hot Blooded" by Foreigner began to play and Lynn felt a twinge of a smile pull at her lips. She shifted in her seat, very softly singing along, and tried to continue writing in her new journal. It was dark brown and genuine leather with an encircled pentagram vertically between two crescent moons on the cover. It was a special find and Lynn decided that she would need it to remember everything Sam and Dean would have to face as well as a safe outlet for what she was going through. Lynn put her pen to the top of the page and breathed life to what she had been keeping buried.

_It's been 10 days since I got here and after everything that's happened, I still haven't told Sam and Dean the truth about me. I honestly don't know how to which makes me wonder if I should. I'm afraid that if I tell them they won't believe me or worse – they'll hate me. The one thing I do know is that I won't emotionally survive if they hate me. Turns out I don't care if I have to navigate the Supernatural world on my own. Hell, I survived mine alone. It's being in it alone_ _ here _ _with the knowledge that Sam and Dean don't care whether I live or die… or hoping that I die because they hate me. Very dangerous thought. Paralyzes me with fear._

_Bright side, they don't hate me right now. If anything, they seemed to be very attached to me! There are_ _**no** _ _words to describe how much I love that. A few days ago, I mentioned that I needed to get some new clothes since I'd been wearing the same outfit for almost a week and, well, gross. Their faces. PRICELESS! I love them so much sometimes it truly feels like I'm going to spontaneously combust. Dean was wonderful with driving me to a few places (Target mainly, but also Payless and a couple thrift stores) to get everything I needed. And Sam was so sweet with helping me shop; pushing the cart and watching my stuff when I tried stuff on and just being Sammy. So now I have enough to make it look like I have a full wardrobe when really, I can fit it all into one duffle bag. They're weirdly impressed with my packing skills and kept thanking me with how fast I am at shopping. Seriously, they're so freaking cute! I keep wondering when I'm gonna stop fangirling over them – over all of it – and then Sam will have a nightmare about Jessica. Or Dean will talk about finding their dad. Or they'll both start asking me questions. And the fear sets in again._

_How do I tell them everything? Especially now? It's SO early in their story… their journey together. They trust me now, which feels like a miracle in itself because I don't feel like I've earned it, but if I tell them – tell them in the wrong way – what if they don't trust me anymore?_ Lynn scratched her pen over the paper because no words seemed to be able to describe the frustration she felt with the situation she was in; a situation she was burying herself deeper into. Taking a breath, she tried writing again.

_I know that I have to tell them. That if I'm going to keep their trust, their friendship, their loyalty and love, then I have to be honest. I have to be brave. I've just never cared about anyone – or anything – this much and to think I could lose it is more terrifying than the thought of never getting back to my reality. And that's a_ _whole other_ _thing._

Lynn moved her arm to turn the page and winced when she did it too fast. It was the first time that Lynn forgot about the burn on the side of her forearm. She angled it up to check her loosely bandaged gauze and this caught Dean's attention.

"You ok? Need me to re-wrap it?"

She smiled at him and replied, "Thanks, but it should be fine until we reach Lost Creek." Lynn looked over at Sam's sleeping face and softly said, "I'm worried about him."

"Yeah, me too."

As the last chorus of "Hot Blooded" played, Sam was jolted awake by his nightmare. He glanced around, trying to shake off the sight of Jessica's grave brought on by his guilt and grief, and Dean and Lynn staring at him in concern wasn't helping.

"You ok?" asked Dean, keeping his eyes on the road while Sam rubbed his own.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Another nightmare?" Dean pried, disbelieving.

Sam cleared his throat and ignored the question by turning around to check on Lynn. "How's your arm?"

"I forgot about it which made me move it like it was fine so now it kinda hurts, but it's still healing well."

Sam chuckled at her answer and said, "Good, I – erm – if you need help with it at all…"

"She said she's good till we get to Lost Creek," responded Dean. He glanced back and forth between them, focusing on Sammy, and offered, "But I could pull over so we could take care of the burn sooner and then you could drive for a while?"

Sam started to laugh, but when he saw that his big brother was serious, he said, "Dean, your whole life you never _once_ asked me that."

"Just thought you might want to. Never mind."

At Dean's groan, Sam added, "Look, man, you're worried about me. Both of you are, I get it, and thank you, but I'm perfectly ok."

"Mm-hmm." Dean grumbled as Lynn rolled her eyes.

"But if you want to pull over to check on Lynn –"

"I'm _actually_ ok. Promise." They peered at her over their shoulders and their affectionate yet unconvinced smirks made her smile. "Really, the pain is almost gone again and there was no bleeding or drainage or anything else gross. I'm good, I swear."

The brothers nodded and looked back out to the road. Sam grabbed the map from the dash and said, "All right. Where are we?"

"We are just outside of Grand Junction," answered Dean.

"You know what? Maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon."

"Sam, we dug around there for a week. We came up with nothing. If you wanna find the thing that killed Jessica…"

"Gotta find Dad first."

"Dad disappearing and this thing showing up again after 20 years? It's no coincidence. Dad'll have answers. He'll know what to do. Hell, he might even know something about what happened to Lynn."

She caught Dean's eyes in the rearview mirror as he said, "Since we got nothing more to go on there."

Lynn forced a guilty smile and put her journal back in one of the front pockets of her bag. That's an opening if one was ever given in conversation. She raised herself straighter in the backseat and leaned a bit forward to say, "I may have left a few things out in fear of you guys not believing me…"

Sam and Dean twisted around to stare at her and asked, "Left out?" They glanced at each other before returning their focus to Lynn.

"We're hunters, Lynn. Our job – our _lives_ – are about believing in things everybody else thinks don't exist. Things that should be impossible." Dean stated after turning the music down so she would hear the gravity of his words. "You teleported in front of the car in a freak lightning storm that messed with my baby's music and we _gave you a ride_. Promised we'd help you. And you know what the most impossible part of that whole thing is?"

"We trust you," finished Sam with a small smile.

Dean pointed at his little brother in full agreement and echoed, "We trust you. Can't explain it but the moment you were on the road with us, well… You're on the road with us, Lynn. So whatdya leave out?"

"We'll believe you, Lynn. You can tell us. Especially if it'll help us learn more about you."

Lynn stared at them, tears stinging her eyes, and took a deep breath. _Don't dump it all on them at once. It's too much and you'll get too emotional. Ease into it, little by little, without lying. You can do this._ "I wasn't on my way home when the weather turned, I was already home. And the _where_ of home isn't the – um – impossible part. It's the when."

"When?" They both asked.

"Yeah, I kinda traveled back 15 years."

Shock and confusion contorted their handsome faces. She watched as they kept glancing at her and each other and out the windshield, trying to process, and after a few minutes, Dean pulled over to the side of the road. Once the Impala was parked, Dean stretched his arm over the seat to look at her head on and questioned, "Ok so you not only teleported across the country you also traveled back in time?"

"15 years?" Sam added. "As in 2020? You're from 2020?"

"Yeah, garbage year. But it – erm – it gets weirder."

"How the hell can it get weirder?" Dean almost challenged with a chuckle. "Is there uh… what? A 4-year-old you out there somewhere?"

Lynn awkwardly laughed, picking at her cuticles, and replied, "No. No, there's not because I wasn't 19 in 2020. I was 19 in 2005. Which is why I'm 19 right now."

"Wait," Sam did his best to process everything, but he knew he was definitely _not_ grasping the scope of her truth. "So you were – _are_ – 34; only you somehow time traveled back 15 years into your 19-year-old body through a lightning storm that also teleported you across the country?"

Lynn half-shrugged as Dean rubbed between his brows and said, "My head hurts."

Sam leaned back against the passenger door, shaking his head at the new definition of impossible. Lynn sensed that he wasn't just stunned but fascinated while Dean was flat-out floored. She shifted in her seat and prepared to tell them the last, and _biggest_ , part of it all when Sam spoke first.

"I get why you left that out. That is, uh, that's a lot."

"Yeah, if I were you, I'd worry about how we'd handle it too." Dean compassionately told her. "Cause that's crazy. Really crazy. Even for us like…"

Lynn forcefully controlled her smile as she finished his sentence. "Dingo ate my baby, crazy?"

Dean snapped his fingers and enthusiastically pointed at her, saying, "Yes! That kinda crazy."

"Overwhelmingly crazy. But we believe you." Sam added. "And even though this whole thing just got so much more complicated and confusing, we'll still do our best to figure it out."

"Hey, it also explains why nothing was panning out, right?" Dean thought aloud as he put the car back into drive. "No witch we ever came across has that kinda magic, hex bag or not. Spirits don't do time travel. Neither do monsters. So now we can start looking in the weirder places."

Sam flipped through their dad's journal and mused, "Maybe some kind of pagan ritual or advanced type of alchemy? Or something to do with psychokinesis? Could be some form of dreamwalking…" Sam brushed through some more pages and stopped. "Or a kind of demon."

 _Or angels_ , thought Lynn.

"See? Not only did we believe you, but we're better off than we were thanks to you believing in us." Dean smiled back at her and settled more comfortably in the driver's seat. "Still nuts though."

* * *

Before heading to the Ranger Station, they got a motel room and set up inside to take care of Lynn's wound. She slowly and carefully removed the gauze, wincing as it lifted from her skin. She sighed in relief when it didn't 'weep' or bleed and immediately went to the sink to gently wash the area. Sam had gotten the water to the perfect temperature and left the aloe vera ointment out for her. Lynn enjoyed the feeling of the cool water lightly trickling down her arm, but she felt a surge of anxious adrenaline when she looked at the burn itself. The swelling was gone and the blistering had healed, but the redness… It was the first time that she was able to clearly see it. Lynn patted it dry and rushed over to Sam and Dean sitting on the beds.

Sam met her eyes first and asked, "What's wrong?"

"I didn't see it before…" Her voice waivered as she removed the hand towel. "But I don't think this is just a burn."

The brothers instantly shot up to their feet at the sight of it. The fire had burned a symbol into the side of her forearm, from the edge of her wrist down to the base of her elbow. The inflamed redness severely contrasted with her fair skin, but with it healing so well they could now see the symbol perfectly. There was a circle by her wrist bone with a deep line stretching all the way down to meet another circle at her elbow. In the center of the symbol was a large diamond created by to V's overlapping each other with circles of their own on each of the four ends.

Sam tenderly reached forward, his fingertips barely touching the healthy skin around it. Dean stared as closely as possible, disturbed at how precise it was burned into her flesh. It really did look like someone used a blowtorch to draw it on her arm. Grimacing at the thought, Dean shook his head and growled, "What the hell is that?"

"I don't know," Sam fearfully sighed. "I've never seen anything like this before."

"This happened in the fire, Sammy."

"I know, Dean, but how could –" Sam choked on the trauma flashing in his mind and reformed his question. " _Why_ would it brand her? What does it mean?"

Lynn walked over to the mirror as Dean said, "This is the same thing that killed Mom so whatever the reason, it ain't good."

She gasped and clenched her fist, ignoring the pain in her arm and instinctively backed away from the symbol's reflection. It felt familiar for a reason and now she knew. Lynn turned to Sam and Dean, who had instantly come up to either side of her.

"I recognize this sigil," she said with a trembling breath. "It's Azazel."

"Azazel?" breathed Sam. "Who's…"

Lynn gulped and replied, "Yellow-eyed demon. Prince of Hell. _Oldest_ Prince of Hell. One of the strongest demons to exist. Ever."

Sam panted and started to shake with rage, so he began to pace around the room. Dean stayed rigidly still and asked with a deep rumble in his voice, "A demon killed our mom? One of the _strongest_ demons killed her and Jessica? Destroyed our family? Hurt _you_?"

"What happened?" Sam yelled from the door. "Before you burst in and tried to get us out before the fire, what happened?"

Lynn stammered, which made Sam sharpen his voice. "You said you chased the guy and he threatened us, so you came back. There had to be more!"

She took a deep and shaky breath in order to answer him. "He said his name was Brady. That he was your friend, or technically _possessing_ your friend. That he was sent to kill Jessica…" Lynn trailed off at the look of utter raging despair on Sam's face. Hot tears spilled from his eyes and he aggressively ran his fingers through his hair. "He told me that Azazel sensed my arrival, and I was in his sights… and that I could either exorcise him or save you."

"We spent a week trying to find answers, trying to find Jessica's killer and you _knew_?" Sam yelled, the rage hitting her like a punch. "You knew that my best friend was a demon? That he killed my girlfriend? That he's working for the Prince of Hell that killed our mom! And you didn't say anything?!"

"Sam, calm down! Enough!" Dean ordered, pushing him back. He turned around to Lynn and demanded, "So all that 'gut feeling' stuff was to – what? Get us to trust you? Break things to us easy without actually letting the chips fall?"

Lynn felt a worse burning in her throat and eyes as the tears threatened to spill. She watched Dean's large drops roll down his cheeks and tried to explain, "I didn't know how to… It's not just…"

Dean shook his head. "No, you should've told us. That's not like what happened to you. This is about our family. Our _whole lives_." He wiped his tears and grabbed hold of Sam's shoulder. "We gotta find Dad, so stay here while we go check out the Ranger Station."

Sam violently opened the door and Dean harshly shut it, neither looking back. Lynn stood in the middle of the room, holding her branded arm and lost all strength when the sobs overtook her.


End file.
